Who is Doji Hoturi?


Doji Hoturi is a character from Rokugan, the universe of The Legend of the Five Rings CCG. When the L5R storyline first began, Hoturi was one of the most important characters. He is both the Champion and the Thunder of the Crane Clan. He is also the character featured in the earliest L5R Fiction, The Way of the World by John Wick. In fact, The Way of the World foreshadows Hoturi's death in the course of the Clan War story arc:

She would never see her husband again.

Hoturi's main story involves his kharmic tie to Bayushi Kachiko, the Empress and Scorpion Clan Thunder. Hoturi and Kachiko fell in love with eachother, but could never be together because of their responsibility to their clan. Kachiko became the wife of the Scorpion Champion, Bayushi Shoju. Still, Hoturi and Kachiko saw eachother in secret. However, when Kachiko became pregnant and Shoju knew it was Hoturi's child and not his own, he forced Kachiko to promise to never see Hoturi again in return for sparing the child's life. Hoturi never found out that Kachiko's son, Dairu, was his own, and believed that Kachiko had spurned him. When Dairu found out that his true father was not Shoju but was instead the Crane Champion, he came to hate Hoturi. Then when the Scorpion clan assassinated the Emperor Hantei the 38th, Dairu sought out Hoturi in order to kill him, only to die by Hoturi's blade. Hoturi never found out Dairu was their child. However, this did not matter to Kachiko and she grew to hate Hoturi for killing their son. She plotted a revenge to ruin Hoturi, the Crane Clan and the Empire.

Using the Egg of Pan Ku, a mystical artifact entrusted to the Scorpion Clan, she created an evil clone of Hoturi, The False Hoturi. She had Hoturi abducted and while he wasted away in the dungeons of Otosan Uchi, The False Hoturi claimed his name and ravaged the Crane home lands. Hoturi escaped from the dungeons and, at the Battle of Asahina Temple, the last remaining stronghold of the Crane, he challenged and slew the False Hoturi in an epic duel, reclaiming his name and his honor.

Later on, as one of the Seven Thunders, Hoturi fought Fu Leng. Although Fu Leng was defeated, Hoturi had suffered mortal wounds and he died in the Imperial throne room in Kachiko's arms. As he was dying, they had come to forgive eachother. This is told in the story The Last Request.

Hoturi's last story takes place after the Battle of Oblivion's Gate, when the spirits of the dead heroes returned to the mortal realm in order to stop the Shadow from erasing Rokugan�s history and civilization. As soon as the Shadow had been defeated, Hoturi rode from the Gate between the mortal and spiritual realms to the Sleeping Lake beneath Kyuden Bayushi where Kachiko awaited. But even though he had crossed the passageway between life and death to be with her, they were still fated to never be together. She had one last duty to perform for her Clan- to lead Shosuro, the bride of Bayushi, back beneath the Sleeping Lake and to remain there for eternity. They would never be together, not even in death.

The Hoturi Sketchbook


For such an important character, there is shamefully few art pieces depicting Hoturi. One day I had the idea of starting the Hoturi sketchbook- whenever I went to gaming and art conventions, I would take a sketchbook with me and have artists draw their interpretation of Hoturi. This became my one selfish obssession. I generally take this sketchbook with me to large tournaments to show to other L5R players as well as a good luck (good kharma) charm, but I have always wanted to put these sketches up on a website. Hence this website and why it is called Hoturi's Shrine. I would like to thank all of the artists who have contributed to the sketchbook and hope that perhaps people will discover their work through this site.

Gallery



John Romita Jr WonderCon 2002
Jim Callahan Eye of the Needle website
Ray Lago WonderCon 2002 website
Ben Seto WonderCon 2002 website
Ben Peck Everything to Gain 2
Brian Snoddy GenCon 2002 website
Carl Frank GenCon 2002 website
Susan Van Camp WonderCon 2003 website
Matt Wilson Everything to Gain 3 website
April Lee Everything to Gain 3 website
Sephanie Pui Law WonderCon 2004 website
Chris Gossett WonderCon 2004 website
Thomas Denmark WonderCon 2004 website
Chris Appel DragonCon 2004 website

Thanks to Ruth Honick and "Shinjo" Jon Freeman for scanning in the sketches.

Thanks to "Yoritomo Jiriki" Joel Marbella for taking the sketchbook to GenCon 2002.

Hoturi's Stories


Private Lessons
From Way of the Crane
The Way of the World
The Fourth Letter to the Crane Clan
The Last Request
No Regrets

Private Lessons


by David Thun

An old man and a young boy walked in silence down the Tachibana Road.

A group of peasants working in the fields alongside the road stopped to stare as they passed, for the two made an unusual pair. The boy was perhaps thirteen years of age, small but well-built, dressed in the blue silk of a nobleman's son. His dark hair was worn long, the tail dyed white in the fashion of a Crane Clan youth. He wore no weapon, and when he smiled the younger peasant girls in the field blushed and covered their faces.

In contrast, when the old man walked past, crows flew from the fields squawking in fear. His faded gray robes looked as if they had been slept in, and his tangled, unbound hair matched the color of his robes. His arms and chest were wiry and criss-crossed with scars. But the hilts of his swords were bright and well-cared for, and his unblinking black eyes seemed to take in everything around them - even when he wasn't looking.

"Hoturi-kun," said the old man, suddenly coming to a halt.

"Hie, Toshimoko-sensei!" the boy said, snapping his attention away from the field where the pretty girls were working.

"Are you staring at those peasant girls?"

Doji Hoturi gulped. He knew if he answered truthfully, he would most likely get into trouble. But he also knew if he lied, he would most likely get into big trouble.

"Hai, sensei," he gulped.

"Good," said Toshimoko, starting forward again. "If you aspire to be a kengo - a master of the sword - you should always be aware of what's around you." he scratched his chin in a philosophical way. "Especially when pretty girls are involved."

Hoturi blinked in confusion. He was, after all, only thirteen.

Altogether, the old man and the boy made for a peculiar spectacle. But peasants everywhere are a practical lot, and when peasants in Rokugan are faced with a peculiar spectacle, the safest solution is to bow deeply and hop it goes away on its own. This time, however, it didn't work.

A clanging of metal and a chorus of hoarse shouts rang out behind the pair.

"What's that?" The boy spun completely around, but the old man remained where he was.

"That," Kakita Toshimoko said, "is not a pretty girl."

Standing in the road behind the pair was a burly samurai wearing the colors of a Lion Clan warrior. His fleshy face was mottled with rage, and a jeweled katana was in his hand. The creak of armor laced with silken cord, the rustle of his bronze horsehair plumes, every part of the samurai seemed to sing a song of anger. Even the ivory band holding his warrior's topknot in place seemed to quiver with barely-suppressed rage. The peasants glanced up at his arrival, sighed, and quickly ducked their heads again.

The Lion samurai roared in outrage.

"Kakita Toshimoko!"

The old man lifted his head a little, but still did not turn.

"Hai?"

The Lion samurai glares. "I am Matsu Shigatori! I have come to the capital to test my sword against yours. For five days and four nights, my messengers have carried challenges to your dojo. For five days and four nights, you have ignored them! And now, in order to face you, I must chase after you like an alley dog? You are a coward!"

The boy glared and stepped forward, but stopped as Toshimoko lifted his hand.

"I receive many challenges," said the old man. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Matsu Shigatori! I slew six Scorpions at the battle of the White Pines! It was I who faced Hida Matahachi in battle with my blade broken - and still bested him in single combat at the Sengyo Bridge. It was I -"

"Oh yes," Toshimoko said, cutting him off in mid-shout. "Shigatori. Careless of you to break your sword."

The boy watched with interest as the Lion's face flushed several different shades of purple. Shigatori sputtered and choked, but said nothing else.

"At the moment," Toshimoko continued, "I am occupied with other matters. I am escorting my student, Hoturi-kun, on a training journey," he gestured, and the boy bowed politely as he had been taught, "and will be gone for a day or two. Afterwards, however, you are welcome to make an appointment at my dojo. Beginner's classes start at the Hour of the Hare..."

"Beginner? Beginner!" Shigatori shrieked. Swinging his katana over his head, he charged forward.

Toshimoko's shoulders twitched, and his katana - still sheathed in its saya - was in his hand. His wrist flickered, there was a sharp crack! crack! like a woodpecker at its favorite tree, and two bright bruises blossomed on Shigatori's face. A small step to the right, a sound like laundry beaten with ironing sticks, and Shigatori lay unconscious on the road, his jeweled sword broken in two.

"Your elbow was bent," Toshimoko remarked as he returned his own weapon to his belt. "No wonder you break your swords." He glanced at Hoturi. "Student, come here."

"Yes, sensei?" Doji Hoturi asked, running forward. His eyes shone with admiration.

Toshimoko pointed. "Kindly rummage through that man's money pouch and fetch me two gold koku."

Hoturi blinked. After all, rummaging through purses is not something a well-bred Crane youth is known for. "Sensei? Isn't that stealing?" he asked.

Toshimoko stared at him. Hoturi knew that stare very well. The boy gulped, gingerly fished two gold coins from Shigatori's pocket, and silently handed them to Toshimoko. the old man tossed the coins in the air, caught them, and smiled thinly.

"Private lessons," Toshimoko said, "cost extra."

From Way of the Crane


Cold blows the northern wind
Thick falls the snow
Be kind to me, love me
Take my hand and go with me.
Yet she lingers, yet she ponders-
There is no time to lose
In the woods stands a grove of oaks
And in the wilds a doe
With white rushes dresses from head to heel;
A lady fair as jade...

- Song of Lady Doji

... and my old companion told me, "That is the way of gift-giving here in Rokugan. You must refuse the gift, so that the giver can show his sincerity." His broken voice crackled quietly as he chewed a thin mint leaf between toothless gums. It is an odd land we have come to live in, stranger than any we have visited in our travels, yet I am assured that this is the land of our ancestors. Though I was born here, I was raised by the Iuchi family, steeped in the traditions and cultures of our ancient travels.

I have served as our ambassador in the Emperor's halls for nearly two years, and yet I have come to no real conclusion about the society of Rokugan. I was lucky to find a friend in Muyoku. His blindness and my ineptitude balance each other well, as we can help each other understand what might not otherwise be clear. Perhaps the Crane who asked me to care for him knew all too well what he was doing, for Muyoku has colored my vision of this land and its people. Especially those who inhabit the court of the Emperor.

"... I see that, Muyoku- sama, as you have told me before. But it is strange. In the lands of my... I mean, in the lands from which my clan has come, it is a deadly offense to refuse a gift. Men are killed for such an offense."

Muyoku smiled, and his toothless grin shook his entire face. "Those are old ways. You are in a new land, and you must learn how to be one with its people. You have been here for nearly two hundred years, Unicorn, and it is time you gave up your gaijin culture."

"Yes, Muyoku- sama," I said resignedly. For nearly forty years, Seppun Muyoku had served as a translator to the gaijin merchants who had come to this land, and his knowledge of lands outside of Rokugan was impressive, although nothing compared to what the Unicorn brought with them. Still, he was the ideal translator and guide, and asking me to care for him seemed a polite way of making certain that the Unicorn clan could be heard in court without insult or misunderstanding. Although most of the Ide were trained to understand the Rokugani courts and their strange ways, the Iuchi were not taught the twists and turns of politics as were other Unicorn diplomats.

"Who is that approaching?" He whispered into my ear, his ancient hand tightening on my sleeve. I turned to look, and caught my breath in wonder.

"A woman, Muyoku- sama, a very beautiful woman - such as I have never seen before."

"Is she a Crane? What colors does she wear?"

"No, Muyoku - she does not wear the blue and silver. Her kimono is scarlet, and she is escorted by a tall, thin man with a long grey beard."

"This man," hissed my companion, "is one of his eyes a strange blue? Swiftly! Tell me!"

I peered at the man, trying to hide my rudeness beneath a soft cough. "Yes, it is, Muyoku - sama." The pair walked down the thin aisle of shining wood toward the high dais, the young woman's movements sleek and sensuous beneath her silken kimono. Her eyes, dark and thickly lashed, pierced my heart, and her ebon hair swept the floor in a maiden's foxtail. The man at her side was aged, his hair a distinguished grey and twisted into the high samurai- style. His blue eyes seemed to gleam with a withered light, and I noticed the Imperial Guard growing strangely tense and watchful. How strange, I thought, since the old man's hands shook with age and his face was lined and worn. Certainly, he was not the sort of man to inspire fear?

"Ahhh..." Muyoku shifted at my side. "The woman is Shosuro Kachiko, said to be the most beautiful maiden in the Empire today. She is only 16, just past her gempukku. Her father, the man with the strange eye, is Shosuro Koshurin, daimyo of the Shosuro. A powerful house within the Scorpion, and a dangerous enemy. What is happening now?"

"They are approaching the dais... The Emperor is greeting them..." I quietly narrated the proceedings, watching closely as the maiden was introduced to the Emperor and his small son. Suddenly, there was a commotion behind us, and a shout broke the softness of the air. A man dressed in the mon of the Crab marched into the chamber, asking the Emperor's premission to speak. When allowed, he launched into a diatribe of anger, claiming insult from the Shosuro house.

"The young Hiruma is aggravated because he was to be married to Kachiko..." Muyoku informed me. "The arrangement was made when they were children, but her beauty caused the head of their clan, Bayushi Shoju, to ask for her hand instead. The Crab has no real complaint against the house, but since Shosuro Koshurin broke the engagement, the young Hiruma has been seeking a reason for a duel." I shook my head, uncomprehendingly. The twisted politics of Rokugan again. In the other land, if a man wanted a woman, he simply bought her from her father, or made an agreement directly with her. Here in Rokugan, life is much more complicated.

"What will happen now?" I asked, as the heady gasps of the court muffled our whispers. "Will Koshurin challenge the Hiruma to a duel? Will there be a battle?"

"If the Shosuro challenges the Hiruma personally, he will no doubt lose - Koshurin is not known for his swordsmanship..." He trailed off into thought for a moment, and I wondered what the blue- eyed man was known for. "Ah!" Muyoku proclaimed as the Hiruma continued with his challenge, "The Crab is insulting the honor of the maiden now - a bold move, for any who defends her may be accused as well." I watched the Emperor calmly listening to the Crab's tirade as the Scorpion and his daughter knelt solemnly upon their cushions. A Unicorn would have leapt upon the arrogant Hiruma and forced him to swallow his words as he said them.

"The Shosuro have brought only an honor guard?" Muyoku asked, and looking around, I saw this was true. "If Koshurin allows any of his men to accept the duel, they will surely fail and his daughter's honor will be forever tarnished. Ah, for a Crab, this is a masterful stroke. The timing is perfect!" His faint chuckle echoed, and a nearby courtier shot us an annoyed look. "Either Koshurin gives her in marriage to the Hiruma," Muyoku continued, undaunted, "allowing his daughter to keep her honor but distancing himself from his daimyo, or he accepts the duel, fails, and she will never marry. Hiruma Maruku is one of the finest duelists in Rokugan, despite his Crab heritage. Any man who accepts the challenge will surely die."

"Never marry?" I said, aghast. "But - even with a tarnished honor, what man could resist..." I let my words trail, looking at the gently curving shoulders and rich black hair of the silent maiden of her cushion.

"No. Her honor will be destroyed, it will shame her family, and she will be forced to commit seppuku." Muyoku folded his hands resignedly in his lap.

"Sep... puku..." I breathed. The ritual death by suicide, an honorable death which would prevent the anger of the ancestors. "The Shosuro is standing now," I whispered, and the aged daimyo began to speak. "It seems he is going to accept the duel."

"Then he is a fool," Muyoku hissed. "And a dead one."

Suddenly, a rich voice from the back of the chamber interrupted Koshurin's speech. A tall youth, barely a man, whose white hair framed a solemn face stepped forward. He strode toward the daimyo and knelt on one knee as a supplicant. With measured, perfect speech, he beseeched the Scorpion to allow him to fight for the honor of the maiden.

"Who is it?" Muyoku's thin, bony finger punched into my ribcage. "Who?" I described the handsome warrior, from the sky- blue kimono to the man's dark, sparkling eyes, and Muyoku's toothless mouth spread in a froglike grin. "Hoturi...!"

"Hoturi?" I peered forward to catch another glimpse of the silent maiden who sat unmoving on her scarlet cushion. "Hoturi who? Is he a Crane?"

"He is the son of the Crane daimyo, the Emerald Champion himself, Doji Satsume." I saw no relief, no gratitude in the mismatched eyes of the Scorpion. He merely nodded assent to the samurai, who stood and pointed an accusing finger at the blanching Crab.

"Hoturi's speaking so fast - Muyoku?" I turned to my instructor, hoping he could hear more clearly what the Crane had said in response to the Crab's challenge.

"He says... Beauty is its own virtue, and..." Muyoku strained to hear over the court's whispering, "That the Crab's dishonorable slander should not be allowed to stain an object of such perfection as the Scorpion's beauty." The young Hiruma samurai turned red, and with a bow to the Emperor and a curt dismissal, stormed out the front doors of the audience chamber with his men. The Crane turned once more, and bowed low before Koshurin and his daughter, then followed the Crab.

The audience sat, frozen in an eerie silence. Listening with strained ears, everyone was poised to hear the strike steel outside as we watched the aged Emperor's emotionless face. The Scorpion maiden, although barely a woman, sat with regal grace and poise. Her fingers were delicately folded in her lap and her stunning eyes downcast, waiting for the outcome which would decide her life. At last, there was a shout outside, and the ringing sound of blade against blade. Within seconds, it was over, and all was silent again.

When Hoturi entered teh chamber, his sword was sheathed and a long, thin line of blood trailed down his left arm, the sleeve of his kimono hanging, torn, by his side. He walked to the dais, bowed to the Emperor, and turned to the Scorpion daimyo and his daughter. "Is it Hoturi?" Muyoku whispered, agitated.

"What? Oh - oh, yes - yes it is. He's talking to the Scorpions now." When he was done, the Crane samurai stood and turned to leave, but the whisper- soft voice of the Shosuro maiden made him pause. With a barely perceptable nod from her father, she stood and bowed to Hoturi.

"What's she doing? What's this? A fan, she said?"

"Yes, Muyoku- sama, she seems to be giving him her fan," I said, puzzled. Why would a woman give a man a mere rice- paper fan? What use could such a trivial object possibly be to a samurai warrior? Surely, I would never understand Rokugani ways of showing gratitude.

"So..." Muyoku said, his breath whistling softly. "The Scorpion maiden's life has been saved, and her honor has been returned." He paused, and I dutifully narrated the bowing, the polite talk, and the Scorpion family's leave- taking. As the maiden and her father passed by, I could smell the sweetness of her perfume, and the gently movements of her silk kimono made my face fill with heat. "But her heart - her heart has been lost." Muyoku's words were mere echoes of her footfalls, and I turned toward him.

"Her heart?" I asked. What a foolish thing to say! Of what use is a woman's heart? A swift sword, or an enemy's secret - these are powerful things. But there is nothing a Crane could possibly gain from the favor of a little girl.

"Some will say that what you have seen today is nothing more than another chapter in the book of a Crane's honor. Others will say that it was a political tactic, that Satsume himself planned this in order to gain favor with the Scorpion house." Myoku leaned heavily upon my arm as I helped him to his feet, the audience chamber slowly clearing of its elegant courtiers and well- dressed diplomats.

"What wold you say, Muyoku- sama?" I asked as we slowly walked out to the gardens of Otosan Uchi.

He snorted loudly, and chewed a piece of mint leaf between toothless gums. "I'd say you still have much to learn, Tetsu- san. About Rokugan, about women, and about the unspoken power of beauty." His wrinkled chuckle broke through my puzzlement, and I smiled fondly at the wise old man. "But especially," he said, "about the Crane."

* * *

Even in times of trouble, remember this: there is no evil in nature. What is now has been before and will be again. It is the shortsighted and foolish who believe that life has no patterns, no purposes. All that is now is part of what has been and what will come to be.

-The Tao of Shinsei

The Way of the World


by John Wick

Just ahead of them, a young man approached. When he was within speaking distance, he fell to his knees, his face to the ground. "Lord Hotoyuri, I bring news from your father's court."

The samurai turned to his wife, his eyes saying all. "Tell me this news," he said to the messenger, his eyes still fixed to his wife.

"The Clans Lion and Phoenix have already clashed upon hearing the Emperor's illness. They say armies bearing the standards of the Unicorn and Dragon were seen moving towards the lands held by Shoshimi of the Clan Crab."

His eyes shut tight. He felt her hand squeeze around his own. Then he turned back to the messenger, his face stern. "Very well. Tell my men we shall be ready to leave by nightfall. We shall have to go to my father and aid him in this . . . dilemma."

The messenger rose, his head still bowed and turned, returning the way he came.

The two walked a little farther, then turned toward the house. Inside, he made ready to make a pack, but found that all he needed was already waiting for him by the door. He smiled.

He walked through the halls to their bedroom. When he slid the door aside, he smelled brewing tea and heard the sweet singing of the pot. She was there, sitting before the table, her eyes cast down at the cups as she poured. He slid the door back into place and walked to the table, sitting quietly.

"You are leaving, then?" she asked, her eyes still low.

"Yes. I must go. My father will need me."

"You do not need to explain duty to me, my husband." Her eyes rose then, and he found his own gaze lowering to the table.

She placed his cup before him and took her own in her hand.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes. It was in my father's court."

"I remember seeing you and being glad that I was to be married to such a handsome man."

"I was happy, too." He raised his gaze and saw her own eyes beginning to swell with tears. "And I am happy, even onto this day."

He watched her lips tremble into a smile. "I, as well."

When the tea was done, they rose up and walked to the door where his pack was waiting. The sun had set low in the sky and nightfall was close at hand. He slid open the door and lifted the pack to his shoulders. Below the house, seven men and their escorts waited. On the escort's shoulders were the standards of the Crane Clan, all blue and white.

He turned back to his wife. "If there is no way to settle this, we must go to war."

"If Lord Tsugenja has been attacked by Dragon and Unicorn, war is already here, my husband."

He nodded. "The Crab Clan is not known for its capacity to forgive, that is true."

They stood there in the doorway, silent, only watching each other.

"We have been together for many years now, my wife," he said. "And now, we may be apart for years to come."

Her eyes fell once again. Then, her hand moved slowly to him. He moved his own to take it, but her hand fell to where his short sword lay. He tried to move back, but her hand moved quick and before he could object, the wakizashi was in her hands.

He dropped the pack, his voice lost in panic. She stepped away from him, her eyes calm as a summer sea.

"No, my husband. Wait," she said to him.

He stopped.

She raised the blade with her left hand and took her long braid into her right. The blade cut and the braid came away from her head. Then, she stepped forward, the wakizashi to her husband. He took the blade from her and placed it back in its sheath.

He watched as she took the braid's loose end and tied it. Then, she placed the braid in his belt and tied it again. All the while, he felt his sorrow push his insides up into his throat.

When she was done, she looked up into his eyes and took his body in her arms. "Take this with you into battle, husband. And when the sky is dark and you are alone, touch it with your fingers, and remember me. Remember that I am waiting for you here."

He touched his lips to hers and held her as tight as he could. Then, he let her go and turned away. He walked down the path down the hill to where his seven bushi awaited him. He climbed up onto his horse and looked each one in the eye.

"She wants you to come back, Hotoyuri-san," an old voice said.

He turned, knowing exactly who spoke. "Yes, venerable Toshimoko-san, she wants me to return."

The old man laughed, his gray eyes shining in the twilight. "That is the way of women. They weep to make you strong." The old samurai nodded at the braid in his belt. "If you value anything, value that. It will keep you alive as sure as your blade."

Hotoyuri smiled. "How would you know anything, Toshimoko-san. You have never even had a single wife."

"Hah!" The old man spat. "One needs a wife to know the ways of women?" The old man moved his horse closer to his lord. "I tell you this now, my young master. You may know the ways of the court and you may be a master of that blade at your side, but you know very little of the ways of the world." Toshimoko winked. "Stay by me and I will teach you."

They laughed then, all of them, and Hotoyuri had forgotten for just a moment that he was on his way to his father's court to prepare for war. They rode away and he rode next to the old samurai, and as he crested the top of the last hill, he stopped. Toshimoko stopped as well.

Hotoyuri looked back to his home. The door was still open and he could just barely see a figure standing in the doorway.

The old samurai chortled. "You worry too much. Worrying is what will get you killed. That's why she gave you what she did. To bury the worry."

Hotoyuri shook his head. "I cannot help it, Toshimoko-san. I know how things will go. I have spent too many years in the court not to know."

"Then accept it. This is the way of the world, Hotoyuri-san. No one man can change the world." The samurai placed his hand on his katana. "Over seventy men have I faced in duel and each time have I faced death. If I allowed fear into my mind even once, I would have died. For it is as the Wise One says, 'You are concerned with life or you are concerned with death.' Which will it be for you?"

Hotoyuri was quiet for a long time. Then he turned his horse toward the rising moon. "Let us go, my friend. We have a long road to travel."

The swordmaster nodded and turned his own horse as well. They rode toward the Lord of the Crane Clan's home, the moon rising up before them.

Far behind them, the bride of Lord Hotoyuri looked out to the moon, her eyes full of tears.

She would never see her husband again.

The Fourth Letter to the Crane Clan


My friends,

On the day of our greatest triumph comes the darkest news this war has yet to bring. First, the news of our victory at Asahina Temple should have reached you by now. We thought it would be our final stand against the army of madmen, but we were wrong. We had prepared the temple against attach, but our commander, Daidoji Uji, knew that we could not stand long. It was then that our Champion returned to us, along with a Dragon samurai and an army of shapeshifting Naga. Together, we stood against the Shadowlands, and on that day, we defeated them utterly.

Before the Shadowlands army's first charge, however, a shugenja from that festering horde called out our commander. Hoturi stepped forward to take the challenge, but the Phoenix samurai-maiden, Tsukune, begged him for the opportunity to face the necromancer. Hoturi permitted her, and the samurai-ko charged down into the open plain and cut down the necromancer with one mighty stroke from her naginata. The Shadowlands army then found themselves under a downpour as the Phoenix shugenja sent a thunderstorm of merciless power over them. The thing that claimed to be Doji Hoturi tried to keep his army together, but he could not. The Naga charged into his ranks, moving faster than any horsemen ever could. Their archers fired arrows into the air, landing only half a moment before the Naga hit the main body of Oni and madmen.

The battle was engaged. Our Lord Hoturi led Daidoji Uji's forces against the personal guard of the False Hoturi. For the first time our Lord faced the thing Kachiko had created and their duel began in the midst of the mighty clash of arms. Hoturi had to fight through three guards before he reached the False One, and their duel was mighty indeed. But in the end, our Lord crushed the false one, removing his head from his body with one single stroke. The army was routed, encircled and burned until it was nothing more than ashes and memories. We were victorious, my friend. We were victorious!

It was then that a lone rider came out from the north, carrying a message for our Lord. I have never seen him before, but I am told that he was the masked ronin who saved Hoturi from the clutched of the Lady Kachiko. Our Lord turned to us and told us the news. The Emperor's soul no longer resides in the Emperor's body. Now, the mortal shell carried the sould of the Dark God that Shinsei and his Seven Thunders banished a thousand years ago: Fu Leng.

Lord Hoturi commanded me to write you as quickly as possible to tell you this news. We need to gather together with all speed and communicate this news to the rest of the Clans. They must know the truth. Open your coffers, my friend and bring to our ranks the ronin of Rokugan. Theirs is a force that has yet to be brought to bear. This is a lesson our Lord has taught us well. Bring ronin to your ranks. We must do more than unite. We must hire any samurai who would join our cause. It is time to use those riches we have built for the last thousand years. Be well, and may the Seven Fortunes be with you.

Doji Kuwanan

The Last Request


After their fateful duel with Fu Leng, Bayushi Kachiko knelt with the head of the dying Crane Champion on her lap. His blood flowed freely from his wound and his cough was wet and painful.

With only momnets of life left in his body, he whispered, "Take my hand."

She did. "That was a foolish thing to do Hoturi," she said to him. "After all the pain I've caused you. After everything I've taken from you. Your family, your clan..." her fingers touched the black braid tied to his belt, " ...your wife." The strength in his finger was fading. She held them tighter. "Why?" she asked, her whisper filled with confusion and rage. "You should have let me..."

"Someone once told me life is too short for regrets." He coughed again. "And revenge." He struggled to see across the dim lit room. "I saw your courage, lady. It saved my best friend's life." She put her fingers on his lips, but he shook his head. The pain in his chest stole more of his breath and she told him to rest. "No. I must say this." He looked deep in her eyes. "Take off your mask," he said. She did not protest. Hoturi smiled. "I forgive you." he whispered. "Pray, forgive me so I may pass in peace."

With her mask set aside, she nodded. "I forgive you, Hoturi." He bit his blood-spangled lip and his eyes squeezed shut. Kachiko took the braid from his belt and slipped it into his hand. "I'm certain she forgives you too."

"Remember this day, lady," he said, his voice fading away. "Remember me."

Just before the void came to claim him, Hoturi felt a single tear fall on his cheek and her voice softly whispering, "I will."

No Regrets


by John Wick

Yojiro stood before the stairway, his eyes full of worry.

"My Lady," he said, his voice catching in his throat. "I cannot recommend this course of action."

"I do not recall asking for your advice or recommendations, samurai." She placed the last item in her satchel and tied it to her obi.

He bowed low. "I apologize, Lady. I did not mean to offend." Then, he turned and looked at the stone stairway that led down to the cave that held the lake. She saw his breath, felt the cold air rushing up from the cave. He turned to look at her again. "If my Lady is certain-"

"I am." She stepped forward and he lowered his gaze. She reached forward, placing her fingertips on the lower side of his chin. "As certain as I was when I gave you your gift."

She lifted his chin so his gaze met her own. "You are not the young man you were then, Yojiro."

He shook his head. "No."

"'The Honest Scorpion', indeed." She paused, looking into his eyes. They were wet and full of pain. "You will lead them now, Yojiro-sama," she said. "They need men such as you."

Her words would have had more power had they a smile behind them, but her own fear forbid her such a luxury. She had no more smiles. Not even a false one to trick a soft-hearted Scorpion.

Instead, she let her lips give him a different gift. Soft, gentle and quick. He trembled under the weight of it. Then, she turned - letting her fingertips trail against his skin as she did - and left him behind at the top of the stairs.

* * *

Two memories she carried with her into that cave.

She first was something Yokuni said to her so long ago.

As she sat under that wall, staring up at the castle that held the mad god that was the Emperor, his voice fell down on her like a thunderbolt.

"You are Shosuro," it said. "It is in your blood."

She shook her head. "I do not understand."

"Blood is not corrupt. It is pure. Only the actions of men make blood unclean. Murder, maho. These things make blood unclean."

"The blood?" she asked.

"We are all the same, Lady Scorpion," it said. "We are all bound by the blood. One day, you will understand."

The second was something Hoturi said to her so long ago.

They were together, their bodies pressed close with the cool night air and the cool sheets against their skin. He told her the story of two lovers and how the boy was captured by a witch. The girl had to go into the forest and win him back.

"How did she do that," she asked him, looking into his deep, dark eyes.

He smiled. "The witch put a spell on him that made him appear to be things he was not. All the while she searched for him, he was right before her, calling out for her to touch him, to hold him."

She touched his face slightly. "Is that all?"

He shook his head. "It's not as easy as it seems. Would you reach out to touch a spider that can speak?"

She leaned forward and kissed him softly. "If he spoke with your voice, my lord, I would."

He laughed softly. "What if it was a kumo, using magic to make his voice sound like my own."

She kissed him again. "I would know the difference." She held his hair in his hand and asked him, "So, how does the story end?"

"She searches all night and never finds him. And he becomes a slave of the witch."

She frowned. "Silly girl. I would have saved you."

He held her closer, whispering into her ear. "I know you would."

* * *

Of course, when the time came, she couldn't.

* * *

The blue light of the lake glistened off the cave walls. She sat at the very edge, shivering. The cold air bit through her kimono, through her skin and muscles, straight down to her bones. She kept her teeth from chattering by chewing on small candies.

All my life I've avoided these, she thought to herself. She pulled another from her satchel, popped it in her mouth and chewed the taste out of the candy onto her tongue.

No reason to avoid them any longer.

After the bag was empty, she sighed and shrugged.

"Now is as good a time as any," she whispered.

She pulled a small knife from the satchel and threw away the sheath. She looked at the blade, looked at her right hand, then looked at the blue waters. She swallowed once. Ran her tongue along the top of her mouth. Felt her teeth begin to chatter again.

"Now," she whispered.

And ran the blade along her palm.

Only twice before had she felt the pain of a blade. She heard that the pain lessened with each experience. Another sensei trick, she supposed.

The cut felt like fire and she fell to the floor. Her knees hit the ground hard and she almost screamed. She threw the knife away and squeezed her wounded hand tight. The blood oozed through the wound, dripping on the ground. She squeezed tighter.

"Here I am, Shosuro," she whispered at the shadows of the cave.

"Come and get me."

She needed to wait only a moment.

Shadows began to shift around her, oozing as the blood did in her hand. She winced again at the pain as the chill of fear began to replace the chill of the air.

The shadow took no form, but swirled about her like a hungry mist.

I know you, it said.

"And I know you," she replied.

You are me, it said.

"And I am you," she replied.

Only one of us can be me, it said.

She shook her head. "How wrong you are."

She lifted her hand again and squeezed. This time, drops of her blood fell

into the still blue waters.

They trembled.

And something awoke.

"SHOSURO," the lake whispered.

The shadow winced like a wounded animal.

"SHOSURO," it whispered again and the shadow pulled away.

But Kachiko reached out with her bloody hand and grabbed it - and the shadow was colder than any cave could be. Colder than ice.

Colder even than the embrace of a mad god.

But she held on. Held tight.

"You are me," she said to the shadow. "And I am you."

NO! the shadow screamed. NO! NOT NOW!

Kachiko nodded. "Yes. Now."

"SHOSURO?" the lake asked, its voice confused.

The shadow twisted in her grasp, changing to a spider with a million legs and a million eyes and a million mandibles. But Kachiko held fast.

"I am you and you are me," she said. "We cannot harm each other."

Then, the shadow turned into a dragon with talons and teeth like razors.

Kachiko shook her head. "Fool yourself if you wish, but you cannot harm me.

We are one!"

"SHOSURO?" the lake begged. "SHOSURO COME BACK TO ME!"

She turned and took a step toward the lake. "Our lord calls for us, Lady. It is time you returned to the love you left behind so long ago."

"NO! NO! NO!" the shadow screamed.

Kachiko nodded. "Yes. It is time." Her left foot found the water and it pulled.

"SHOSURO!" it called out to them.

Kachiko took another step, the shadow screaming and pulling as she did. All darkness oozed with her, leaving the chamber full of brilliant blue light.

When she reached her hips, the shadow had taken a final form. that of a young woman.

Kachiko saw her face, now very serene. Very still.

"Please," it pleaded. "Please. We are one. I can give you anything."

She shook her head. "The one thing I want, you cannot give me," she said.

That was when the waters rushed up, high above her waist. It was cold, but it was warm. She slipped on the rocks below and fell to her knees, the shadow's hand still gripped in her own.

The blue of the lake was everywhere, drowning out all sensations. Kachiko was deafened by its thunder, blinded by its brilliance. It froze her skin and filled her mouth with the taste of sweet water and bitter sadness: a loneliness that spanned centuries.

"SHOSURO," the lake pleaded.

"Kachiko," another voice said.

She looked up. And he was standing on the shore.

She turned. The shadow was still in her grasp, screaming at the lake.

Kachiko turned back to the man at the edge of the lake.

"Speak my name again," she said.

The man smiled. "Kachiko," he said.

"Again," she demanded.

For a third time, he said her name.

"Kachiko."

Her lips trembled. She felt her eyes soften. Her grip, however, was fast.

As she looked upon him, for the first time since she knew she had to come down to this cave, she realized something that chilled her more than any shadow or kami ever could.

She opened her lips to say it, but her voice failed.

But he nodded. They both understood.

We will never be together again.

She knew then what had kept her alive during that journey into the land of flame, sand and heat. She knew what kept her alive when the ronin sliced her neck open, bleeding her near to death. She knew what kept her alive when her Clan was betrayed by those who had not the courage to face her. And she knew why she had the courage to come down to this lake and do what needed to be done.

It was the knowledge that one day, they would be together. Forever.

We will never be together again.

She looked at him as the waters rushed up to her chest. The shadow was smothered in the waters of the lake, but she did not let go. She watched him standing on the lake shore, his hands on his spear, his face bloodied with battle.

He fought his way through the gate, she thought. To be here. Here with me.

Just then, she found one last smile.

"You flinched," she said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

He smiled. That beautiful smile.

Then, the waters rushed over her head.

And there was nothing.

No pain.

No tears.

No regrets.

Can someone tell me who sculpted this? Painted by David Ruete.

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